


What it Took

by Spoofinator



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BBC, Canon Compliant, Cute Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoofinator/pseuds/Spoofinator
Summary: John walks in on Sherlock with a man, and it doesn't take long for him to realize why it made him so angry.





	What it Took

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ficlet, really. Just a short cute fic where both Sherlock and John are idiots and I love them and they love eachother.

“Let him go, now.” John nearly screamed, his gun pointing at a bulky man with an arm around Sherlock's neck.   
The man obliged, but took off running. Sherlock took a second to recover before bolting after him, John following close behind.   
The man took off around a street corner, but when Sherlock and John reached him he was already on the ground, tackled by Lestrade.   
“Nice timing, Greg.” John said, trying to catch his breath.   
“Not for him.” he laughed as he handcuffed the man on the ground, “you two look exhausted, I'll call you in the next few days for a report, get yourselves home.”   
John nodded appreciatively and turned to Sherlock, who was just catching his breath as well.   
“Share a cab? I can pick up Rosie from Molly's on the way.”  
“Of course. Your flat is another 20 minutes, you and Rosie could stay at 221b if you'd like.”  
“It’s only 7:30, I've got to get her home for a bath, and I work in the morning.”  
“Right, of course.”   
John could swear he saw disappointment on Sherlock's face, but it was gone as fast as it came. 

◇◇◇◇◇

Sherlock waited until John was out of site before turning to the cabbie.   
“45 Old Codwell Street.” Sherlock told the cabbie.   
“I thought you said 221b Baker Street.”   
“I changed my mind.”   
The cabbie shrugged and headed to the other address.  
Fifteen minutes later Sherlock got out of the cab and walked into the old pub.   
“William! Good to see you!” the bartender said, pulling out a wine glass.  
“Evening.” Sherlock responded nonchalantly handing him his debit card.   
“House red?”   
“Yes.”  
The bartender poured the glass, putting a little extra with a wink.   
Sherlock took a sip of the wine and turned to survey the pub. It was averagely loud, with a dance floor and a small area to the side with tall tables set with three chairs to each. Only one table of the six seemed to be in use, there were at least 11 people on the dance floor, and 7 at the bar.   
Sherlock chose his usual table near the wall and window. It was a good location to be able to stare out the window and survey the room. He was half finished with his wine and looking down at his phone when a man walked up and leaned on his table. Sherlock looked up at him, he was only a few inches shorter than Sherlock with perfectly styled grey hair and grey blue eyes and he wore a tight fitting flannel shirt and worn jeans.   
“You look lonely over here, want some company?”  
Sherlock's eyes flicked over the man.  
Office worker, single, from out of town, here on holiday, has one cat.   
“Please.” Sherlock said with a smirk, motioning to the chair across from him.   
“I'm Collin, I'm visiting from out of town- you guys have some great pubs, and,” he deliberately looked Sherlock up and down, “some great sites.”   
“William,” Sherlock said, offering his hand with a smirk.

◇◇◇◇◇

John unlocked the door and entered his flat, Rosie and a diaper bag in tow. He set the bag at the door and brought Rosie into the kitchen, setting her down in her high chair and making sure she was secure.   
Rosie babbled happily playing with a stuffed bee Sherlock had bought her, so John took the opportunity to make himself some tea and get her bottle ready. He took down her formula from the cabinet and opened the container to find it empty.   
“Fuck” he mumbled soft enough that she wouldn't hear. “I meant to get more today but got distracted by the case.”   
He glanced at the clock. 8:03pm. The shop by him closed at 8, but Sherlock would definitely still be awake. He knew Sherlock kept extra supplies for Rosie at 221b for when he babysat, and he was the closest to John’s. So John took Rosie from her chair and bundled her to go back out.   
Surely Sherlock wouldn't mind them stopping by.

◇◇◇◇◇

Sherlock had only finished his one glass of wine before Collin asked if he wanted to go somewhere less public.   
Must be his last night in town. Sherlock thought, but he didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed the eager ones, they hated small talk almost as much as he did.   
Sherlock suggested his flat, and they were making out in the back of a cab within 5 minutes of leaving the bar.   
They arrived at 221b and stumbled up the stairs. Ms. Hudson would be distracted by her herbal soother now, so Sherlock didn't have to worry about that, but he turned on the stereo to make it sound like he was playing his violin anyway.   
“Central London, that's quite the location. You're sexy and well off, then?” Collin said, voice dripping with lust.  
Sherlock simply hummed in response, pulling him towards the couch.   
Collin slid his hands under Sherlock's coat and slid it off of him, followed by his scarf. Sherlock returned the favor, letting Collin's jacket fall to the ground.   
“Bloody hell, I could fuck you all night.” Collin breathed as he nibbled at Sherlock's neck and started to unbutton his shirt.   
“I've no other plans.” Sherlock responded with his honey coated baritone as Collin pushed him back onto the couch.   
“Good.” Collin slid Sherlock's shirt off the rest of the way and continued to trail kisses along his neck and collarbone. He reached one hand back and took a fistful of Sherlock's dark curls, earning a soft moan, while the other hand found its way to Sherlock's belt.   
Sherlock fumbled to unbutton Collin's shirt as Collin moved up to nibble his earlobe, but Sherlock's fingers froze halfway down. Collin looked at him, confused as to why he stopped and followed his gaze to look behind him.   
John stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do, shock painted across his face.   
Sherlock cleared his throat, “Hello, John.”   
“Oh, shit. I didn't know he was taken, I swear.” Collin said nervously clambering off of Sherlock.  
“No, no, I'm not- I.” John stopped for a moment to collect himself, straightening his shoulders and clenching the fist that wasn't momentarily holding Rosie, “I just came to see if you had extra formula for Rosie, Sherlock, it seems I ran out.”   
“Sherlock? You said your name was William…”   
“Well, it is, technically-”   
“Why are you still here?!” John interrupted with more anger than he had intended.  
“Right. I, uh, I- I'll just go then.” Collin stammered, grabbing his coat from the floor before hastily dodging around John and out the door.   
Sherlock stood from the couch, his belt and top button of his trousers undone and shirt left behind. “Right, then, formula.”   
“Form- wait, no, what were you doing?”   
Sherlock looked at John with a questioning I-thought-that-was-obvious face.   
“Right, yes- I know what you were doing, but… I didn’t think you…”   
“Had sex? Were gay? Yes to both, obvious. Anyway, formula.” he started towards the kitchen.  
“Watch what you say in front of Rosie!” John near-screamed, ironically making Rosie start to cry.   
“Fuck.” John mumbled.  
“Watch your language.” Sherlock retorted in response from the kitchen.  
John scoffed and brought Rosie to where Sherlock was making them both some tea and preparing her bottle, bouncing her on his hip to try and calm her down. Sherlock's pants were now buttoned and belt fastened, but he was still shirtless, John had to try hard not to stare, distracting himself with Rosie instead. Once he managed to calm Rosie enough he put her down in her chair. It was past her bedtime and she was going to be even more cranky soon.   
John looked up at the scars on Sherlock’s back. He had seen them before, but they were still quite a shocking sight. Sherlock twirled around and caught John staring at him.   
He handed john a mug of hot tea with an awkward smile and handed Rosie her bottle, which she took with a satisfied coo.   
“So, you do this often then? Invite strangers over for a shag? You have a tinder or something?”   
Sherlock just stared for a moment and cleared his throat before answering, “Not ‘often’, really, occasionally.”   
John flashed a quick, albeit angry, smile. “I thought your body was ‘just transport’.”  
“Well, yes, but I occasionally go for a ‘top up' as I believe you described. And I don’t see why it matters, if you were coming over you could have texted. I didn’t expect you to be over tonight.”   
“What, you didn’t deduce that?”   
“I was otherwise occupied.”   
John put his cup down on the table a little too hard and clenched his fist.   
“You're upset. Why? We were still mostly clothed when you walked in-”  
“It's not that, Sherlock-”   
“Oh, right, you are a doctor, I understand your concern, but I did have the proper materials for safe-”  
“No, Sherlock. It's not that either…” Sherlock tries to read John's face but was unable to figure out what was wrong. “I don’t know.”   
“Well, it would be pointless for you to leave now. There is an extra crib up in your old room, stay the night, I can watch Rosie while you're at work.”  
John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, I don't want to keep Rosie up any longer, I suppose I'll stay.”  
John turned around and picked Rosie up from her chair, she had finished her bottle and was starting to nod off.   
“‘night, then.” John said, heading towards the stairs to his old room.  
“‘night” Sherlock responded as he went the couch to get his coat and shirt. 

◇◇◇◇◇

John lay in his bed after getting Rosie to sleep, but he wasn't tired yet.   
He thought about what he was feeling, he had seen Sherlock with that other man and he had been angry about it. Usually he didn't let himself think about these things, these feelings he had for his best friend. But he couldn't keep pushing it down and letting it come out as anger. He had hurt Sherlock so terribly at the hospital with Culverton. He hated himself for that. And Sherlock had just taken it. He ripped himself apart again and again for John. Was it really so hard to believe that he could have more than platonic feelings for Sherlock? Was that really such a bad thing? He knew Sherlock wasn't that self proclaimed sociopath he had thought, in a way John had always known. He knew for sure now after everything they'd been through together, from the way Sherlock looked at him when he thought for a moment that John might be Moriarty at the swimming pool, to the way he put himself in harm's way to pull John from the fire, to the way he would rather kill himself than John or Mycroft in his sister's death maze. He never thought he was gay, but maybe he underestimated himself, he had had more than platonic feelings about friends in uni, he was beginning to believe that he was bi. Maybe it wasn't so crazy for him to be true to himself and his feelings. And he was done playing games, it was time to stop hiding.  
So he got up from bed and headed downstairs with the reckless bravery of a soldier going into battle. 

◇◇◇◇◇

Sherlock picked up his shirt and coat and headed to his room. He hadn't meant for John to catch him in such a compromising position, but he was mostly just relieved that it didn't scare him away. He needed John more than he wanted to admit.   
He changed into his pajamas and threw on a robe. He thought he might as well distract himself with an experiment, otherwise he would keep thinking about John and that's what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.   
He headed to the kitchen and sat in his usual spot by his microscope. There were two compounds found in the dirt in Hyde Park that he wanted to better familiarize himself with, that would keep those pesky feelings down for tonight. 

◇◇◇◇◇

Sherlock was feverishly focused on some dirt or something when John entered the kitchen.  
“Sherlock.” he didn't even budge.   
So he walked around and stood right next to him.   
“Sherlock.”  
Nothing.  
“Sherlock!”   
He looked up for just a moment, “Ah, John, couldn't sleep?”  
“Yeah… well there's something I wanted to talk to you about…”   
“Yes, alright,” Sherlock said, turning his full attention on John, seeing as this was going to be a longer conversation than he had hoped, “what is it?”  
“Well,” John cleared his throat, “well, it's about what happened earlier.”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically, “I thought we were done with that. I already said I am gay and sexually active, what else do you want me to say?”  
John clenched his fist, “not about what you did, Sherlock, about how I reacted…” he met Sherlock's eyes, “I… well I was jealous.”  
Sherlock just stared, uncomprehending.  
“of the man you were with…”   
He stared a few more seconds before responding, “Jealous?”   
“Yes… Sherlock, you fucking git, I know what you're like, and I know you're ‘married to your work’, but I love you, and I have for a while now.”  
Sherlock blinked rapidly.  
“No, Sherlock, we are not doing this again.”   
“I, uhm…” he cocked his head to the side, searching for the right words.  
“It’s fine,” John breathed out, “it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way.”   
“No, John, it's not that. I do. I do love you back.”   
It was John's turn to stare blankly.   
“Of course I love you, John, I killed a man for you, I would kill myself for you, and nearly have. I feel like that much is obvious. I've told you before that it's always you, that you keep me right, because it is always you.”  
John smiled awkwardly, that lopsided smile that never failed to make Sherlock melt.   
“Right, then…”   
“Tea?” Sherlock asked, standing up from the table and turning to the electric kettle on the counter, but John caught the sleeve of his dressing gown before he made it too far.  
“Oh, are we not done talki-”   
John pulled Sherlock into a kiss, he had been waiting so long, he was not going to wait a moment longer.   
Sherlock didn’t mind the change of plans at all, tea could wait.   
John pulled away breathlessly, “So, I hope you don’t mind sharing a bedroom, Rosie will need her own.”  
“Those were my thoughts exactly. In fact, I thought we could go make sure the bed is comfortable enough now.” Sherlock near growled.   
John smirked, sleep could wait. He leaned up to kiss his detective before fumbling down the hall and into Sherlock's bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this mess!  
> Comments and kudos give me life.


End file.
